


On Call

by Nary



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Phone Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-16
Updated: 2010-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"House, why the hell  are you phoning me in the middle of the night when I'm sleeping on <em>your</em> damn couch?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Call

His cell phone rings. Wilson checks the clock – 2:48 AM – and groans, because he'd hoped for once he might get a full night's sleep. He checks who's calling, groans again, but answers. "House, why the hell are you phoning me in the middle of the night when I'm sleeping on _your_ damn couch?"

"Because I'm lazy," House replies sharply. "It's easier than walking to the living room."

Wilson rolls over onto his back. "Please don't tell me you've fallen and you can't get up."

"Ha ha," says House. "Other way around."

Wilson, still sleep-dazed, takes a second to process that thought. "You…dammit, House."

"What? You're cheaper than a phone sex line and have fewer viruses than the internet. Talk dirty to me, and the faster you get me off, the faster I'll let you go back to sleep."

"I could just go back to sleep right now."

"No, you couldn't. I know you. Come on, tell me what you're wearing."

Wilson glances down. "Grey t-shirt, bit of a curry stain on the stomach, yesterday's boxers…"

"Oh, you're no fun. Make up something better than that."

"Uh… chaps and a leather vest?"

"Sure, I can work with that. So, cowboy, what are you going to do to me?"

Wilson shuts his eyes, rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. "I'm going to kill you in the morning."

"Ooh, please don't, mister, I'll do anything you say!" House says, affecting a theatrically nervous quaver. "Come on," he adds in his own voice, "I'm fucking aching for it here, Wilson, give me _something_."

The tension coming over the line is real, Wilson can tell, and it gives him a little knot in the pit of his own stomach, even though he'd rather be sleeping. "I could suck your cock," he murmurs, giving in, "how would you like that?"

"Mmm. Yeah, keep going."

"My hands on your ass, squeezing you hard, as you thrust into my mouth…" He can hear some faint rustling, as of clothing being readjusted or perhaps a body shifting against bedsheets. "I'd like to suck you as deep as I can, suck on your balls too, fuck every inch of you with my tongue."

"Unh. G-go on."

"Before you come, though, I'd stop, bend you over, and lick your ass too, get right in there, make you all hot and wet, and then I'd take my cock in my fist" – Wilson realizes just how hard he's become over the past couple of minutes – "and I'd push it into you, nice and slow because you're so f-fucking tight…" He's got his own cock out now, stroking it lightly as his imagination works overtime and he listens to the heavy breathing coming over the phone. "…but I'm not going too easy on you, no way, I'm going to fuck you hard, make you squirm and beg me to jerk you off while I'm in you…"

"Are you doing it too?" House interrupts, and there's a breathy hitch in his voice.

"'Yeah," Wilson admits. "I am. You got me pretty worked up out here. You want me to keep talking, or…?"

"Don't you dare stop now," House orders him, sounding just this side of desperate.

"Okay, so I'm fucking your ass, and I've got my arm wrapped around you to jerk you off while I'm reaming you out, slamming into you over and over, and…what do you say to me?"

"I… god, I w-want it so bad, please, don't ever stop," he gasps, and then Wilson hears a string of rhythmic grunts, punctuated by gasps and one quiet but drawn-out "fuck."

"You done?" Wilson asks a few moments later.

"Yeah," says House, sounding much better. "I should be able to sleep now. Thanks."

"Hey, what about me?"

He can almost hear the shrug and smirk over the phone. "You can take care of yourself. What are you, lazy?" Then there's a click and silence at the other end.

Wilson frowns, stands up and mutters "Not too lazy to walk to your bedroom, you bastard."


End file.
